


Touch Me, Babe

by mtothedestiel



Series: God Ships Destiel 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are in uncharted territory, but they're ready to explore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch Me, Babe

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is an extension of the final scene of "God Ships Destiel". I couldn't resist. The title comes from and awesome song by The Doors, which is one of my favorite songs to pair with destiel. Enjoy!

Hey hey my children, God here.  At long last the word has been fulfilled.  That’s right, thanks to Gabriel, Sam, and a little planning by yours truly, Destiel is canon.  No, really guys, it was nothing.  Now as much as we all loved that ending scene with Dean and Cas, I know some of you might have found the ending a little short and, ahem…PG?  So for all you sinners out there, here’s a little something extra.  Ask and you shall receive.

***

To start with, they decided to take their shoes off.  Cas had expressed his concern that it would become very difficult to remove them once they were prone, not to mention that they would be distracted by the rigors of physical intimacy, and so Dean figured if it made the angel happy they may as well address the issue head on.  So the first few minutes of their first night together was spent side by side on the edge of Dean’s bed, Castiel carefully removing his black dress shoes as Dean roughly undid the laces on his boots, kicking them off across the room as Cas gently set his beneath the bed. 

“So do you wanna...”  Dean was still a little behind the curve.  He was hanging from the ceiling by his wrists a little less than an hour ago, for Pete’s sake.  Cas sat up, threading his fingers through Dean’s where they rested on his thigh.

“Dean,” Cas informed him, “I am ready to resume our intimacies.” 

“Ok,” Dean agreed, distracted momentarily by Castiel’s thumb running over the back of his hand, “Good.” 

A subtle gravity seemed to pull him toward the angel until there was little more than an inch between their lips.  Dean smiled, his grin bittersweet as he thought of all the times he had found himself this close to Cas, only to pull away with some crack about ‘personal space’.  Not this time, he thought, running the tips of his fingers along the sharp line of Castiel’s cheek.  This time Dean was allowed to want.  Allowed to touch.  Dean could actually see Cas’ pupils dilate as he brushed his thumb against the angel’s full bottom lip, and feel his breath quicken before he leaned in the extra inch, pressing their lips together at last. 

Cas’ lips were warm and soft, and just a little bit dry as they brushed against Dean’s, light and quick.  They could have been acting out a scene from one of those old movies Dean occasionally caught on motel TVs, their kisses brief and playful, stopping every now and then to just look at each other, noses touching.  Castiel couldn’t decide what to do with his hands, one minute resting on Dean’s thigh, the next grasping at his shoulders, where the ghost of a handprint still marked Dean’s skin.  Dean knew _exactly_ where he wanted his hands, working his fingers into the soft dark tufts of Cas’ hair as he ran his tongue tentatively along the seam of the angel’s lips.  Cas opened up under his prodding, and Dean lost himself in the wet plush heat of Cas’ mouth, sweeping his tongue across Cas’ palette before retreating once more.  Castiel pressed forward, almost tipping Dean off balance in his eagerness to taste.  His tongue curled around Dean’s as he used his hold in Cas’ hair to adjust their angle, letting their mouths slot together more completely as they learned each other’s ins and outs.  Castiel kept inching forward on the bed, looking to eliminate the space between their bodies, until Dean felt himself falling backward with a whoop of surprise onto the mattress, Cas’ trench coat covering them like a blanket at he clambered on top of Dean to continue peppering his face with kisses as Dean laughed at the angel’s enthusiasm.  Dean was hyperaware of all the pressure points between them, the press of Cas’ chest against his, the rise and fall of his belly as he breathed, and the line of pressure against his thigh that Dean realized with a pleased shock was the angel getting hard.  Cas worked his mouth along Dean’s jaw, following the hard line all the way to its origin.

“I cannot _believe_ we never did this in Purgatory,” Cas murmured against his skin, lips brushing the sensitive patch just below Dean’s ear. 

“We would’ve given poor Benny an eyeful,” Dean commented, which for some reason made Cas crack up, his body shaking against Dean’s as he laughed silently into his shoulder.  Dean found himself laughing too, laying playful kisses up Cas’ neck between his chuckles.  Cas was almost hysterical, laying their foreheads together as his fully clothed body pressed Dean’s pleasantly into the mattress.  “He would have been so traumatized,” Cas added, face lit up with mirth, “But it would have been _so_ worth it.”  Dean broke down again as he pictured the vampire’s face.  God, but he hadn’t laughed like this since the time he tried to buy Cas a hooker named Chastity.  The memory of that night just made him want to kiss Cas some more.  So he did, catching the angel’s smiling mouth with his and sliding their lips together leisurely.  He could feel Castiel’s stubble rasping against his jaw, leaving his skin tingling and raw.  Dean could already imagine the light burn he would see in the mirror tomorrow morning, and damn it if it didn’t send a tingle down his spine.  His heart was thrumming in his chest, and he could feel Cas’ through his clothes, the rhythm light like a humming bird wing, perfectly in time with his own.  They were right on the borderline between innocent exploring and full on, heart pounding groping, and Dean was so down to stay on that line for a minute and just _enjoy_ it.  Cas sucked Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it with an audible pop to admire his spit shiny handiwork before delving back in. Dean ran his tongue over the roof of Cas’ mouth, eliciting a soft moan from the angel which dean swallowed just as eagerly.  The press of their bodies was becoming less comfortable as Dean grew stifled under his many layers.  Dean was getting hard, and he soon found himself scrabbling unsuccessfully for traction against the rough material of Cas’ trench, searching for friction.  Cas’ hands were sliding fruitlessly over the heavy canvas of his jacket, and Dean could tell the angel was growing frustrated despite the tender ministrations of his mouth.

 “Dean,” Cas interrupted their macking to consult him seriously, “I believe our clothing has officially become an inhibitor to the potential pleasure we could be experiencing.”

Dean lost his voice for a second at the sight of Cas, hair mussed and eyes predatory. “Uh..yeah.  Yeah,” he agreed quickly.  Castiel wasted no time, and Dean’s jacket and flannel were soon in a pile on the floor.   Dean tried to grab the angel’s hands as Cas rushed to remove their clothes.

“Cas, Cas slow down,” Dean urged, “I’ve never done this before.”

“The mechanics of homosexual coitus aren’t complicated,” Cas assured him, tugging at his shirt determinedly, “There’s no need to be nervous-“

“No Cas, I mean,” Dean swallowed his anxiety, “I’ve never seen you.  Out of your coat I mean.”

“Oh.” Castiel’s eyes grew large and round, his hands stilling against Dean’s abs.  “Never?”

“Not unless you count that time you carved the banishing sigil into your chest.”

Cas shook his head. “That definitely does not count.”  He took Dean’s hands then, guiding them to the lapels of his trench, placing them firmly against his chest.  His voice was soft when he next spoke.  “Go as slow as you want, Dean.”

Dean tugged the angel forward by his lapels, tracing the curve of his lips with his tongue as he slowly worked the heavy canvas off of Castiel’s shoulders.  He let the trench coat fall to the carpet, running his hands over the soft fabric of Cas’ suit jacket as the angel’s mouth opened willingly under his tongue.  Ill fitting as it was, the black suit still revealed more of Cas than Dean had ever seen, outlining strong shoulders and hinting at his slim hips.  Dean broke their kiss to breathe deep against the cheap fabric, memorizing the scent and the feeling of it against his skin, before peeling it back, revealing the white expanse of Cas’ dress shirt.  Dean let his gaze rake across the thin fabric covering the angel’s chest, causing a rosy blush to cross his cheeks.

“You’re practically naked,” Dean said softly, not trying to hide the awe in his voice.  Castiel scooted impossibly closer, parting his legs around Dean’s waist to land in his lap. 

“There is still much more of me to undress,” he invited, eyes dark as he caressed Dean’s jaw, massaging his fingers into the short hairs at the nape of Dean’s neck.

“In a minute,” Dean assented, sliding his hand up the bright blue of Castiel’s tie, the silk falling light and liquid through his fingers.  He worked the knot loose, dipping his nose into the hint of skin that appeared in the gap of Cas’ collar, pressing his lips to the concave spot below his adam’s apple.  When he flicked out his tongue to taste, Castiel hissed as though he’d been burned, clutching at Dean’s scalp in surprise as he ran his own lips along Dean’s crown.

“Dean.”

“Shh,” Dean soothed, taking one of Cas’ wrists in hand, pulling it down from the back of his head to place a kiss on the palm as he worked on the buttons of Cas’ sleeve.   Once freed, he latched his mouth onto the angel’s wrist, the pulse point flickering beneath his tongue as he tasted the pale skin of Castiel’s exposed forearm.  Cas stared as Dean worshipped him, moving on to his other sleeve, sucking his left hand fingers into his mouth one slender digit at a time.  Dean could feel the angel’s hips beginning to shift hungrily against his own as finally moved on to the buttons that trailed down Castiel’s chest, revealing his pale, toned muscle inch by heated, laborious inch.  As he slid the white cotton blend off Cas’ shoulders, Dean could only rest his forehead against the angel’s sternum, letting his breath fall into time with Castiel’s heart, which he could just detect beneath the firm muscles of his chest.  Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders, lips falling back into his hair as he enveloped him, cocooning him in a circle of slim, strong arms.  Dean felt _safe_ , resting his hands on Castiel’s waist, his thumbs rubbing small circles in the dips of the angel’s hips.  Cas whispered nonsense in Dean’s hair for a moment, whether Enochian or otherwise Dean couldn’t say, before his hands snaked down to fumble with the hem of Dean’s remaining shirt.  

“My turn,” Cas growled, yanking Dean’s thin t-shirt up over his head in one smooth motion.  The angel wasted no time getting his hands on Dean’s bare chest, shoving him back into the pillows with unyielding strength.  Dean let his hands roam as Cas kissed across his collarbones, exploring all the lithe muscle of the angel’s back as he sucked hard against Dean’s skin, leaving what were sure to be some gorgeous hickeys in the morning.  When Cas skimmed his lips teasingly over a nipple, Dean gasped, fingers digging into Castiel’s back involuntarily, no doubt leaving a few marks of his own.  Cas chuckled darkly as he fixed his mouth over the sensitive area, drawing a high pitched keening from Dean that he would not be admitting to making come morning.  God, even with chicks that had always been his sweet spot.  Castiel moved to the other side, licking a shiny trail of saliva before blowing against the pink skin, causing it to contract as a shiver ran down Dean’s spine.  Dean felt his already very interested dick give another twitch in his jeans.

“Just like that Cas,” Dean encouraged him breathlessly as the angel worked his chest, “Perfect.  So perfect.  _Christ_ , it’s like you’re a freakin’ mind reader or something.”  Dean was babbling a little, and too far gone to care.  Castiel seemed to find this amusing and only increased his efforts.

“I cradled your soul in my hands Dean,” Cas murmured, biting down on the hard nub before lathing over it with his tongue, “I rebuilt your body from the cells up.  Did you think I wouldn’t know how to break you back down?”

Wow.   _Shit_.  If Cas kept this up Dean was gonna blow a circuit, not to mention come in his pants like a freaking teenager.  He was hard as a rock, and the barely there pressure of Castiel’s hips through their layers of cotton and denim was officially not enough anymore. 

“Ok,” Dean grunted, hips bucking almost involuntarily as the angel stared down at him with lust blown pupils, “Ok.  Slow time’s over.  Mojo.  Now.”

Luckily he and Cas were on the same page because Dean felt the brush of the angel’s hand against his denim-wrapped thighs, and then it was only skin on skin, Castiel’s fingers leaving hot trails as they traced the muscles of Dean’s legs and the jut of his hipbones.  Dean grabbed the angel by the scruff of the neck, dragging their mouths back together in a bruising clash of lips and teeth as, _finally,_ he felt the rough slide of Cas’ erection against his own.  Castiel’s nails were digging into Dean’s skin where he gripped his shoulders for leverage, his cock hot and heavy against Dean’s stomach as Cas ground his hips down eagerly.  Dean met him thrust for thrust, his hands eagerly running down the trail of Cas’ spine to cup his ass, pulling their bodies impossibly closer, causing Cas to whimper into his mouth.  The angel broke their kiss, their faces still close enough to share breath as Cas scrabbled at the short hairs on the back of Dean’s neck.

“Dean, should I-do you want-“ The angel seemed uncertain for the first time since they had hit the mattress.

“Just touch me Cas, please,” Dean begged without shame, crushing their lips together once more.  Castiel cradled Dean’s neck with one hand as the other wandered down to grasp Dean’s cock firmly, the feeling of it against the sensitive skin there almost enough to push him over the edge already.  Dean’s gasp of pleasure turned into one of shock as Castiel gave a sharp tug, jolting him almost straight up in the bed.

“Jesus, not so tight!” He exclaimed, already laughing at the equally shocked expression on Cas’ face after Dean’s reaction.  “My apologies,” Cas muttered, shamefaced, “I have seen this executed, but never actually…attempted it myself.”  This only made Dean laugh more as Cas smiled sheepishly.  He pulled him back against his chest as he collapsed against the pillows.  Christ, what a pair they made.  Luckily it wasn’t long before the shaking of their bodies together reminded Dean of their original intent.

“It’s okay Cas,” he soothed, as his giggles dissipated, “It’s okay.  I’m new at this too.  Just let me…ah…let me try something.”  Castiel nodded as Dean grabbed him by the hips, scooting him forward until he felt their cocks brushing, pulling Cas down for a slow grind of friction before releasing him.  He wrapped a careful hand around their matching erections, squeezing gently before moving up in a slow, deliberate drag.  Judging by the white heat that fluttered at the edges of his vision, not to mention the broken moan Castiel was releasing against his neck, Dean figured he had the right idea.  Another slide of his hand, and Cas’ hips were bucking up, thrusting into Dean’s hand, and damn it the feeling of Cas’ dick was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

“Shit,” was all Dean could gasp, moving his own hips against Castiel’s, setting a steady, languid rhythm, “What the hell took us so long?”

Cas was developing a fine sheen of sweat along his neck and shoulders, which Dean was more than eager to taste, his teeth scraping against the angel’s salty skin, only to go back and soothe with his tongue.  Castiel was eager to reciprocate, finding the sensitive shell of Dean’s ear with his lips and teeth, dragging a deep growl out of Dean’s chest, both of them fucking into his hand more urgently.

“Most likely,” Cas informed him brokenly, “It was your subconscious desire to conform to the heteronormative standards of your society.”  He nibbled on the lobe of Dean’s ear, eliciting another obscene sound.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Dean joked in between his groans.  Castiel whispered in his ear, stubble just barely grazing Dean’s cheekbones.

“I prefer our nonconformity,” he confided, “Don’t you Dean?”  Cas placed his own hand around Dean’s, adding just the right amount of extra pressure, as he gave one, final, _filthy_ grind of his hips, using his angelic strength to actually press Dean into the memory foam he had come to love so much.  

“Fuck! Fuck _yes,”_ was the last thing Dean spat through his clenched jaw before he was coming, spilling over their intertwined fingers onto their sweat-slicked bellies.  He released his spent cock as his head swam, trying to keep his grip steady on Cas, whose thrusts were becoming more and more erratic as the angel watched Dean come undone.  Dean pulled him down for one final probing kiss before Castiel was gasping into his shoulder, hot come spurting into Dean’s fist as he stroked Cas through his first orgasm.  Dean kept up his movements until Cas was soft in his hand, kissing the angel gently before he rolled off of Dean’s chest to collapse beside him on the mattress, limbs spread eagle across the double bed. 

“Holy shit,” was all Dean could think to say, his pulse finally easing up.  Cas didn’t answer right away.  For a comfortable minute, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing as they both came down from the high.

“Of all of my Father’s creations,” Cas said at last, chest still heaving with exertion, “The human body is by far my favorite.”  At the moment, sweaty and sated, Dean couldn’t disagree.

“Any body in particular?” he asked with a grin.  Cas rolled onto his side, sliding an arm across Dean’s chest as he huffed into his ear.

“I can think of two that just performed very adequately.” 

“Aw, just adequately?” Dean teased, “I thought we made a pretty good show for a nerdy angel virgin and a guy who up until about forty minutes ago had never kissed a dude.”

“Yes,” Cas agreed matter-of-factly, “It was a good start.”  Already his hands were starting to wander, trailing playfully along Dean’s chest.  Dean felt his heart start to pick up the pace once more as he planted a kiss on the angel.

“This is really gonna be something, isn’t it?” Dean whispered.  He felt turned on, and nervous, and excited all at once, and it wasn’t just from the promise of round two.  Castiel smiled his half smile, drawing Dean close to place a kiss of his own before rolling them over until Dean was on top, sheltering Cas with his body. 

“Dean,” Castiel said as he wrapped his arms around Deans’ neck, “You have no idea.”

   


End file.
